The Path to The Kiss: Mistakes & Growth
by Tuzilla
Summary: RON! RON! A story weaving through several hundred pages of canon about what went on inside the hearts and minds of the trio leading to the famous kiss. This the first story of the Heart Series. The rest of the series is detailed at the end of this story.
1. Chapter 1

The dark was busy doing what it does best when it was interrupted by a whoosh followed with the snapping crack created by someone reappearing from apparition. Other than some momentary barking by an unseen dog and the screech of the startled cat he had almost landed on as it scurried off into an alley, Ron's abrupt arrival seemed to have gone otherwise unnoticed.

He shook his head for a moment to clear away the bits of nausea that often accompany apparition, especially by those not yet comfortable with the process. Once his mind cleared, he then started looking at his new surroundings with hopes of seeing something he recognized.

"What the bloody hell did I just do? Where am I?" he asked himself as the anger of the argument fueled by the bile of the horcrux waned. He stomped his foot, looking for something to kick. "What have I done?"

Actually, he knew exactly what had happened. He had let the horcrux play on his temper and frustration at their lack of progress. He had caused Harry to act out on his delusions of Hermione and his planning and plotting against him. He had put Hermione in a horrible position. It had caused all of them to explode on each other and him to rush out of the tent and into the randomness of a rapid apparition. Now he was stuck living the consequences. He had no idea how to get back. He wondered what was going on back in the tent.

Ron had no idea as to his location. The dearth of lights on the street made it hard to see. The village looked like Hogsmeade, but it was not. None of the buildings or signs were familiar to him. There was no Honeydukes, Three Broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's. The only indications of life seemed to be coming from a place a few buildings away. From the sounds, it was probably a pub or inn.

Ron had been wearing the Slytherin locket all afternoon. Its effects on the wearer were noticeable, especially on Ron. Its dark powers made a person sullen, depressed and irritable. All three of them were aware of that fact. That is why they took turns wearing it. The problem was a wearer tended to lose track of this fact.

This was not the first occasion of an irrational outburst from one of them while under the influence of the horcrux. However, this was the first time one of them really acted out on the pent-up locket anger that had built up inside them.

It was fortunate for all of them that Ron had taken it off after his outburst before disappearing. Who knows what could result from him taking it with him? The tragedy was the residual effects lasted long enough for him to still storm out of the tent and disappear. Now he was lost in a strange place with no idea as to how to get back to Harry and Hermione. He desperately wanted to go back.

Back in the tent, Hermione was sitting on her bed trying to read a book and settle her mind, but the steady dripping of teardrops onto the pages indicated her efforts were futile. Many of the girls back at Hogwarts would be shocked to see this happening. They had labeled her a long time ago as not having a heart. They saw her as all brains and book, no heart and no soul. Some of them even called her Hermitione behind her back based on their assumption she would grow old, live alone with her books and a few cats, and never know true love.

While they were not entirely wrong, they were actually inaccurate. Hermione's heart was of first quality blood pump. Her blood pressure and other physical measures related to her heart were excellent. But that was not the issue in question. The girls were referring to the emotional side of a heart, or her lack thereof.

The girls were implying Hermione somehow lacked an emotional side to her heart. They meant in their shallow, snarky assessments that Hermione had, as in the hurtful words of Professor Trelawney, a heart which was "_shriveled as an old maid's, _[her]_ soul as dry as the pages of the books to which you so desperately cleave_."

This was a flawed assessment. If you were to consider the emotional side of a person's heart like a jigsaw puzzle, it would be more accurate to say she had a piece or two missing, not the entire puzzle. For example, she had a strong sense of justice, social and otherwise. This allowed her to break and bend the rules that seemed to so often visibly bind her actions when need be. It also cropped up often over the year, such as in the searching for the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets. It brought about her founding of S.P.E.W. and Dumbledore's Army. These things were all evidence of the existence of a strong and active emotional heart.

Her emotional heart also allowed her to see the forming of romantic relationships between boys and girls. She saw the way Harry looked at Ginny and the signs that Ginny and Dean were not getting on. But this is also where her heart had its missing pieces. Through all of her years at Hogwarts, she had never actually dated if we disregard her momentary dalliance with Viktor Krum and convenience dates such as Cormac McLaggen at Slughorn's Christmas party. As clumsy as Ron and Harry were at getting dates to the Yule Ball, she was even more lacking in the skills of attracting the opposite sex. She was fortunate that Krum found her total ignoring of him more fascinating than the gaggle of giggling girls that haunted his every step.

In her early years, she was always too busy with her academic pursuits. She never saw the necessity of dedicating time like her less academically-serious friends to such a frivolous distraction. Later on, when she actually began feeling the inklings of desire to start a relationship with Ron, she was too awkward. She needed a plan, she always needed a plan, for something that complicated, Her process-orientation rendered her incapable of freely acting on the foreign feelings coming out of her heart.

Hermione's always critical brain kept telling her she was not pretty enough to be desirable or as nicely formed as many of her more body-mature classmates. It convinced her she had a coarse personality. Besides, she was muggle-born, a 'mudblood' to elitists like Draco. Ron was a pureblood. How could he want her? She knew some of his family's feelings about Fleur. What did they really say about her behind her back?

This led to situations like the scene at the bottom of the stairs after the quidditch match. It also led to her simply nodding and saying "Boggled" after Ron gave her an opening to start a conversation about their mutual feelings for each other after he said he seemed to remember something while in the hospital bed recovering from being poisoned and having muttered her name to Lavender's dismay while delirious.

While Hermione continued weeping, Harry was outside doing guard duty. His mind was filled with a storm of thoughts struggling against the bile of the locket he was now wearing. He did not want this to happen. How were they going to proceed from here? Ron was his best friend. He was an integral part of the team. The chances of success had been dealt a severe blow.

Despite this sentiment, he was still totally pissed at Ron. He never again wanted to see him, hear his name or think of him. This would prove futile over the long run, but it was hot and fresh at the moment.

"Damn!" cussed Harry, wanting to cast a curse at something in anger, but knowing the explosive effect could give away their position, even with the protective enchantments. Instead, he kicked a small larch causing an avalanche to fall onto his head.

The angry, pent-up suspicions he had been feeling for days had finally spilled out. He and his best friend had exploded on each other. If not for the Protego charm Hermione had cast between them, who knows how for it might have gone.

Now, his best friend was gone and he was totally pissed at him. Hermione was devastated from having been thrust into the middle of an irrational row made worse by the bile of the locket which hung around Ron's neck. Their mission was on the verge of collapse.

"How will we continue?" thought Harry as he brushed off the snow and needles with frustrated strokes. "We haven't accomplished anything other than finding a bloody locket that we can't destroy because we now need to find a missing sword. I know they were upset at our lack of progress, but I shouldn't have popped off on him like that. I know how Hermione feels about the ass, even though she doesn't feel that way at the moment, and he is too thick to realize it, either. I can't imagine how she is feeling right now. This is a bloody mess, and I made it worse."

Ron walked toward the lights of the buildings. He needed to get a sense of where he was. He had really done it this time. He knew the horcrux was responsible for much of his anger. But he also realized he needed to learn to control his temper and gain some understanding from what Harry was enduring. He should have understood that by now.

As he reached the lighted building he peered in through the window. The people inside, mostly men, were drinking from tall mugs and eating from bowls of what looked to be a stew while dipping large pieces of bread into it. They were also engaged in raucous, animated conversation and behavior.

"Muggles," thought Ron. "Definitely muggles. I wonder if I dare go in there? I could use a bit of food and something to drink."

Just then a pair of men exited the pub. "G'evenin'," said one of them as he held the door for Ron to enter.

Ron took it as an omen and said "Thanks" as he entered the place.

He quickly looked around and spotted a small, vacant table. A sturdy woman in a common, red dress with an apron marked by the work of the day approached him and asked what he would like.

"I guess I'll have a drink of whatever everyone else is having and a bowl of that stew," he replied, not certain what to order.

The woman walked off as he started looking at the other patrons. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him. They were all too busy with their own goings-on.

A moment later she returned and sat down a mug of frothy liquid, a slice of bread and a bowl of hearty-looking stew. "I don't recall ever seein' ya in here," she said with a smile.

"I—I've never been here before. I'm just passing through. What is the name of this village?" he asked, hoping it would be a familiar name giving him a clue as to his whereabouts."

"This is Crickhowell," she replied, "and you're in The Stolen Lamb. Where might you be from?"

"Ottery—uh—Ottery Saint Catchpole," he replied, not sure what to say. He certainly could not say Hogwarts and his accent was all wrong for northern England.

"I've 'eard of that place. Down in Devon, isn't it? Fair bit of a walk if yer travelin' on foot."

"Yes, Down in Devon," he replied.

"Well, welcome here," she said "That'll be four pounds for the special. Made it fresh this mornin'. Mighty fine and fillin' for a weary traveler. We got some rooms if yer lookin' fer a place to sleep."

"Thanks," said Ron as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his enchanted pouch of endless muggle money. He took a fiver from it and smiled knowing it was Hermione who had insisted they all carry some muggle money just in case. He handed it to the woman and told her to keep the change.

The drink was a strong, bitter ale which was far more potent than the butterbeer to which he was accustomed. But the stew, which turned out to be made with lamb, was delicious and the bread was perfect for dipping in it.

As he ate greedily at his food, which was the first real meal he had enjoyed in some time, he noticed a group of men against the far wall. They did not seem to fit in with the rest of the pub's patrons. They also seemed to be looking at him a little too much. It made him nervous and anxious to leave, even though he had nowhere to go.

Ron finished his meal while carefully keeping an eye on the men watching him. He took a final drink of his bitter brew and got up to leave. As he reached the door he noticed the men rising to leave, as well.

Once outside he walked in a purposeful manner back in the direction from which he had come. He was only made it a few yards away by the time the men made it into the street.

"Don't stand there," hollered one of the men. "Snatch him."

The men burst into a run, coming after him as fast as they could. Ron cast a stunning spell which toppled two of them as he took flight. Several spells cast by the remaining snatcher whizzed by him as he zigzagged at top speed. Unfortunately, one of them was pretty fleet of foot. Within a few steps, they had him. They began bickering among themselves as to what to do with him. They did not believe him when he told them his name was Stan Shunpike,

Ron used their confusion to punch the snatcher holding him and to steal his wand. He then recovered his own wand and made a dash for freedom.

He cast expelliarmus as he turned toward the alley the cat had used. He heard the closest snatcher topple and a couple more trip over him.

By the time the snatchers had gathered themselves and made it into the alley to rejoin the chase, Ron had already made it behind a building and was quickly burying himself in a heap of old boards and rubbish. The snatchers, who did not seem all that bright as he listened to them from his hiding place, searched the area for several minutes before cussing and giving up.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, Harry and Hermione left the wooded stream on the mountainside. The fight was not going to disrupt their routine of daily movement. Hermione lingered, fidgeting and puttering around much longer than usual before they finally apparated to a new location. It turned out to be a beautiful, heather-covered hillside.

They spent most of the day pondering the whereabouts of the real Sword of Gryffindor, putting up protective enchantments and wondering about the future. They took turns standing guard. As time passed they got more and more frustrated.

Ron had finally moved into a fitful sleep. If the problems that brought him here were not enough, he was sleeping in a trash heap huddled under a worn-out blanket and there were snatchers looking for him.

Despite the situation, Ron managed to sleep until morning. He was eventually awakened by someone tossing some stuff onto the backside of the heap. He waited until they had disappeared back into the building, then he crawled out wondering where to go from there.

He wished he could just apparate back to Harry and Hermione, to The Burrow, or to Hogwarts. He did not know the procedure to get into Number 12 Grimmauld and was pretty certain it was not a good idea to go there or to Shell Cottage. He did not want to chance his family learning his movements and location. This would make everyone vulnerable to Voldemort and his mind tricks.

Ron moved down the alley to the main street with great caution. He did not want to bump into the snatchers. He was also hungry. The idea of a nice breakfast at the inn before figuring out where to go would be just the thing.

Just as he was about to slip down the street so he could look through the window into the inn, the door of the inn opened. The three snatchers stepped out. Ron ducked back into the alley so he could peer around the corner of the building and watch them.

The snatchers talked a bit while looking around. They must have been planning how to search for him in the daylight. Suddenly, they clasped hands and apparated away. A sense of relief filled him.

Ron reemerged and headed to the inn. He felt confident it was now safe for him to get some food. Planning on a full stomach would be a much-preferred situation to being lost and hungry. Still, he felt exposed, incomplete in the way he did after he stopped Harry from taking off on his own from The Burrow following the disastrous leaving the Dursley's with the notion they would not last two days without Hermione.

He stopped and peered in through the window as he reached the inn. It looked peaceful. There were just a few people inside. They seemed to be enjoying a quiet breakfast. He walked to the door and went inside.

A few moments later he was enjoying a large bowl of porridge accompanied with some sausages, orange juice and a steaming cup of dark, full-bodied coffee that required an excessive amount of milk and sugar for him to get it down. It was a far cry from the breakfast feasts at Hogwarts he had been missing since leaving there but welcomed all the same.

He clutched the pouch Hermione had insisted they all carry as he paid with more muggle money. He bumped it off his chin almost like he wanted to kiss it before putting it away. As he put it back into his pocket he was momentarily swept with a strong wave of emotion. He missed her more than he could understand. He missed Harry, as well. However, this was different. Hermione and him were not going together. They were not even dating. But this sudden severance from her gave him unexpected, unexplainable fits of separation anxiety.

Hermione was drying her tears when Harry came back into the tent to warm up a bit. She quickly poured him a hot cup of tea and handed it to him like she was fine. But Harry could tell by the redness of her eyes that everything was not well.

Hermione would never admit it but she was actually ashamed of her tears. Tears were a sign of weakness and vulnerability that did not fit in her view of being a strong, mature person. She had not really cried since her meltdown early on in her first year which led to her almost getting Harry, Ron and herself killed by the troll in the girl's bathroom. It is true she had cried at the bottom of the stairs and when Buckbeak was executed, but they were minimal in comparison. Now she spent most of her time doing it, although she did her best to hide that fact. Unfortunately, her brain refused to consult with her heart over the true meaning and value of them. Otherwise, she might have viewed them differently.

She had spent too much time around books and boys, and not enough time around her peers to get in touch with her feminine side. Her emotional outbursts tend to be of the more masculine kind, such as punching Malfoy, swatting Harry or Ron on occasion, or being over-competitive in academics to the point of being upset at Harry bettering her in Slughorn's Potions class. This added fodder to the cutting thoughts about her by the other girls. She needed to take time to explore how tears can be sad and glad, angry and joyous, caused by pain and pleasure, bemoaners of failure and celebrants of success. Instead, she tried to hide them and be the stoic.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry.

Yes—yes I am fine," she said in a less than convincing voice. "I was just reading. You need some sleep. Give me the locket and I'll go outside for a while. You get some rest."

"I'm sorry about the other night," he said, knowing she knew the night he was referencing. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. R—uh, uh—he was just…"

"…It's okay," she said, interrupting him. "We'll be fine without—uh—HIM. We just need to move on.

"No, it is not okay," reiterated Harry. "He's was my best friend…at least I thought so. And I know…well, uh, I know how you feel about him. I let that bloody locket get between us and now he's gone. I can't…"

"Give me the locket, Harry," insisted Hermione with a stern look. "You've had it on long enough. Give it to me…Now!"

Harry winced a bit and stepped back as he pulled the locket's chain over his head. The empathetic part of Hermione's spiritual heart was running on high.

"I wish we had a way to destroy it," moaned Harry as he handed over the cursed locket. "None of this would have happened if…"

"…Stop it, Harry. Just stop it."

Okay. Let's just work on finding the other ones. We can try to figure out a way to destroy it as we go."

"Yes, but we don't know the whereabouts of the real Sword of Gryffindor and I don't fancy us fighting a basilisk, either. At least we know the sword in Bellatrix's vault is a fake. There must be other ways," said Hermione in a frustrated tone. "I wish we could go search the library."

"I don't think Snape would be keen on that," said Harry with a rare of late chuckle. "We just need to keep searching."

"Well, lie down for a while. You need some rest. I'm going outside and read," she said as she reached for the tent flap.

Harry gasped as Hermione pulled the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black that hung in 12 Grimmauld Place out of her bag. It still had the blindfold on it from the first time they had talked to it.

"Why the bloody hell did…"

"…I grabbed it while packing. I thought it might be useful," said Hermione, interrupting Harry. "It's companion portrait is in Dumbledore's—uh—Snape's office."

"Brilliant. But he is a pureblood Black and a Slytherin. Do you think he will help us?"

"I don't know. We can only try and hope, I suppose," she said as she set the portrait on a chair.

It took a lot of coaxing, but Phineas was finally convinced to appear in his portrait, which Hermione had carefully adjusted the blindfolded so as to not give away any details of their location. The conversation was contentious and not particularly helpful. However, it was a building block for many more conversations in the future.

Following the conversation with the portrait, Harry walked over to his bed and sat down as she exited. Once outside, Hermione sat back against a tree and lit her wand for reading. Within moments, she was crying once again. The absence of Ron, her anger at him aside, was consuming her mind and preventing her from reading. She did not understand why.

She imagined this is being what a break up must be like, even though it was not one. They were not even dating, let alone going together. Still, his angry departure and her place stuck between grabbing him and staying with Harry and the quest was tormenting her heart in ways she had never felt in the past. Even the incident at the bottom of the stairs was nothing compared to how she was now feeling. It was like something was going on inside her that she did not fully understand.

Harry lay down and tried to fall asleep. He missed Ginny. Even though their relationship was still in its adolescence, he ached for her embrace and the warm press of her lips on his. Even though he was thoroughly pissed at Ron, he blamed himself for a huge chunk of the situation. "Why did I have to pop off like that? I knew he was wearing that bloody locket. I could have handled this better," he told himself as he finally started to drift off. "How are we going to get him back? Does he even want to come back? Do I want him to come back?"

He dreamt of Dumbledore. He kept asking for advice but only got encouraging words and cryptic answers he could not decipher. Snape hit him repeatedly with a rolled up parchment, McGonagall stared at him over her square glasses, and Peeves taunted and laughed at him.

The morning found Harry and Hermione eating breakfast in the tent. Food being an item that cannot be conjured with magic, they had to rely on the variety of food items Hermione had stuffed into her bag. The best they could do was pulling something from her supply, multiplying and or enlarging it, and then work with it from there. It was not as nice as the one being enjoyed by Ron, but it was quite adequate and sustaining.

"We need to talk about how we are going on from here," said Harry in a half-hearted tone.

"I know," replied Hermione in soft resignation. "We can't just sit here."

"You're free to leave if you want," said Harry, looking her in her red, puffy eyes. "I know how you feel about—uh—him," he said, stumbling a bit at saying his name for the first time since their fight. "You don't have to stay. You can go look for him…"

"…No," she interrupted. "I need to stay. We need to keep searching for the other horcruxes. He will be okay. I've never said this in front of him and don't you dare tell him I said it, but he is pretty clever and skillful when he doesn't have time to overthink himself. He'll get his comeuppance for taking off when we find him. For now, we need to press on."

Harry sat quietly. He was still burning with anger on the inside. His best friend had blown a hole in their relationship that looked of terminal dimensions. This was a hundred times worse than their row over whether or not he had put his name in the Goblet of Fire. He did not want to hear good words about him.

He had never seen this Hermione…the one to compliment Ron and his skills. He was more accustomed to the Hermione that often treated Ron like a naughty schoolboy that she somehow could not stop liking. However, she also expressed anger at him for leaving the way he did. She was upset at the way she had been put on the spot between going with him and staying with Harry and the mission. He wondered what she was really thinking. He wondered about Ginny and how much he missed her.

Inside, Hermione's heart and brain were struggling for control. Her heart wanted to run after Ron. It wanted to find him. It wanted to stand by his side and fight to protect him. Losing him this way was tearing at her more than she could yet understand. Really losing him, never seeing him again, was the trigger causing her increasingly frequent teardrops to fall. But her brain was still running the show.

Her brain was still focusing on the task of finding the horcruxes, finding a way to destroy them and ultimately defeating Voldemort. She was always a thinker, a plotter and planner. Her quick decisions often failed her, such as going to Slughorn's Christmas party with Cormac when she could have gone with Harry, or when she almost got Harry and herself killed by howling at Lupin without an escape plan. This was a place where Ron's quicker, less complicated thinking complimented, even benefited her lengthier, more process-oriented thinking at times.


	3. Chapter 3

Just as Ron finished his breakfast the waitress, who he assumed might be the owner or the wife of the owner, came over to check on him. He paid for his meal and got up to leave.

"Are you leavin' town?" she asked. "We still have rooms if you're of the mind to stay on here a while."

Ron had been wondering as he ate what he should do and where he would go. There were so many places he would like to go but could not justify for safety sake. He had not really come up with a good alternative to staying here for the time being. He felt fairly confident that he would not see any snatcher here in the near future. Staying might be a good idea.

"I—I—uh—I might stay here for a few more days. Let me have one of your rooms."

"Follow me," she said with a smile. "The rooms are upstairs."

She showed him a room. It was neat and clean, but anything other than fancy. It only had a bed, chair, dresser, and a window looking out over the street. The bathroom facilities were located a couple of doors further down the hallway.

"The price of the room includes breakfast and dinner," noted the woman.

"That is an excellent deal," replied Ron, now seeing the problem of eating made much easier.

He agreed to the room and paid for four nights. When asked about luggage he said he had been robbed while at his previous place. A thief had cleaned out his backpack taking most of his belongings while he was napping in a park. He was glad they had not picked his pockets, as well. It just meant he was finishing his adventure a little lighter than anticipated.

The woman took the money and slipped it into a pocket on her well-worn apron as she turned to leave. "Enjoy yer stay," she said in a happy voice. "I hope you find Crickhowell to yer likin'."

"Thank you," replied Ron as he moved to sit down in his chair.

A short while later he got up and left the room. He had decided to look around the village. The fresh air and scenery would probably do him some good. It might jog his mind. It could help find some new ideas. He needed a plan for the future.

Once again Hermione dominated his thoughts. He missed her more than anything. Even though he kept trying to come up with ideas for rejoining the hunt for the horcruxes, he found himself more concerned with finding his way back to her. He wondered if she missed him, or if she was glad he was gone. He wanted her. Why had he not found a way to let her know how he felt. Was she really showing favoritism for Harry over him, or was it just his and the horcrux's imagination?

Crickhowell turned out to be a very common muggle village. It had a pharmacy selling muggle cures for illnesses and ailments, a bookstore that would surely fascinate Hermione, a hardware, a store catering to the needs of automobiles, a clothing store, church, bank, grocery and several other shops serving various other needs and functions. He visited the clothing store and emerged with a warm coat, gloves and hat for the colder weather he might encounter.

In the grocery, he bought a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, and some local cheese and sausage. This provided him with a hearty lunch and he continued his tour. By the time he reached to open country at the edge of the village, he had spent the whole afternoon. As the sun started to set he headed back to his room. While darkness might conceal him, it might also hide those he would prefer not to meet.

The rest of the day passed and Ron found himself wondering what Hermione would be doing if she was stuck in a mess like this as he closed his eyes. The notion that Hermione was too smart to put herself in a situation like this tormented him. Even though the bed in his room was far superior to his bunk in the tent, the ability to transition into a night of rest was hard to make.

Hermione lay down on her cot. Tears quietly trickled down her cheeks as she worried about Ron. She knew he was clever, but was he going to be able to go it alone? He was used to having the support of his family to fall back on. None of that was available in this world. Her mind was too anxious for her to find the peace of sleep.

Harry, mad as he still was at Ron, was also concerned about him. His best friend was out there in an unfriendly world and he was claiming a great deal of the responsibility for it. He had a Hufflepuff's worth of family protectiveness for his friends. He wanted to save all of the 'treasures' during the second Triwizard Tournament challenge. He had given up the prophecy for his friends. He had taken on the teaching role in Dumbledore's Army after having been treated as a pariah by much of the school including members of his own house for most of the previous year. This did not make it easy for him to go to sleep.

However, sleep eventually came to all of them. In the morning Harry and Hermione took a walk around their enclave before packing up for their daily move. The sedentary life was not to their liking. It felt good to stretch their legs.

"I wish we could come up with a plan," said Harry.

"I know. I keep reading and thinking but nothing is coming to me. It's frustrating."

"I wonder how he's is doing?" asked Harry, the veil of loathing he had been carrying starting to wane even though he was still not willing to say Ron's name.

This caused Hermione to stop. It took a few seconds for her to manage to say, "I ho—uh think he's okay. He is pretty good under pressure. You remember how he saved Tonks when we got you from the Dursley's to The Burrow."

"Yes, sometimes we don't give him enough credit. I imagine his story will have to be better than ours if he ever returns."

That remark deeply cut Hermione. Quietly, Her achy heart was still at odds with the angry at him for leaving side of her brain. She wondered how she would react when he finally reappeared.

Ron headed down to enjoy a filling breakfast. If nothing else, they ate well in Crickhowell. Only two things were consuming his conscious mind. He kept asking himself how he could find his way back to Harry and Hermione? At the same time, his mind was also on high alert along with his eyes and ears searching for possible snatchers.

Ron spent much of the morning in the bookstore. Even though he was never much of a reader outside of schoolwork, he felt a strange sense of peace and happiness surrounded by the books as he randomly looked through several of them.

Harry was back in the tent puttering around. He practiced a few spells and washed and dried his clothes the way Hermione had taught him. Hermione was outside reading by the tree and enjoying her little fire.

He had kept thinking about how they could proceed, but could not come up with any clues as to the location of the next horcrux. After a while, he laid down on his cot and floated off toward sleep. He kept seeing images of Ginny and wishing he could be holding her. He wondered if she worried about him or was mad they had left her behind.

Hermione eventually came back into the tent to warm up and have some lunch. Once she finished she walked over to Ron's space and started picking up and rearranging the belongings he had left behind during his hasty departure. Ron, not the neatest of people, would probably be appalled at her actions.

"This stuff should all be organized in case we need to leave," she said, trying to justify her actions to Harry and probably herself. Her space was already neat and proper.

"You're right," said Harry as he got up and headed to the tent opening. "I'll be outside, now. Be sure to get some rest, as well."

"I will," she replied as he exited.

Instead of taking a seat against a tree, Harry decided to take a chance and to wander about outside the safety of their concealments and protective shield. He really had not taken time to appreciate their surroundings. It was a beautiful little woodland with hills, trees, a stream and a fair amount of wildlife ranging from several varieties of birds, to some hares, a squirrel, a pair of deer, and a none to friendly weasel that did not seem to welcome him interrupting it stalking of one of the hares he had seen earlier.

This was probably quite a pleasant place in the summer. It was nice, now, just a tad bit too cold. He had a vision of himself walking with Ginny and taking time for some snogging and cuddling near the stream.

Finally making it back to the camp, Harry headed to the tent for a bit of warming up. It was close to time for him to switch with Hermione. He hoped she had not ventured out during his absence and became concerned with his whereabouts. When he stepped inside he got a bit of a surprise.

Hermione was curled up in a fetal position on Ron's bed. Her expression was the most tranquil, contented look he had seen on her face in a long time. He also noted what seemed to be tear stains on her cheeks. With great care, he poured himself a cup of tea and sat down on his bed. It would be rude to disturb her and rob her of a second of the sleep she was enjoying.

On occasion, he considered trying to start a romance between himself and her. They had been stuck alone together for weeks with no end in sight. However, it would never work. He was scared making a move might hurt their friendship. She was too good of a friend…almost to the point of him considering her his sister. Besides, he knew how she felt about Ron under the mask of anger at him she still had not fully taken off.

He also knew how he felt about Ginny. It often tied his stomach in knots. He wondered how she was getting along. He wondered if she was safe. He wondered if she was thinking or worrying about him. Part of him wished she was here. Her presence would greatly ease the Hell in which he was stuck.

Hermione was making happy sounding noises that caused Harry to have to suppress a few chuckles as she slept. He sensed that the smell of Ron on the bedding was affecting her unconscious mind and letting her enjoy it in a way she normally would suppress. After about an hour she finally stirred and appeared to be coming back to life. As she sat up and shook away the sleep she noticed Harry was also in the tent.

"Oh. You're back," she said, still sounding a bit groggy as she wiped her eyes. "I must have dozed off."

"Yes. You looked really peaceful there like you were having happy dreams. I didn't want to bother you."

"Actually I was," she said, then paused as an embarrassed, sheepish expression started to creep across her face as she realized where she had been sleeping. "I must have—uh—been sleepier than I realized."

Harry smiled at her as she got up and moved to her own space without making eye contact. "Don't worry. I won't tell on you," he said with a rare in recent times grin.

Time passed. Days turned into weeks. Progress was essentially non-existent. Their only comfort came from the portrait. Despite his dislike for being blindfolded, Phineas could not help but show up and talk to them on occasion. They got tidbits of news from him. He confirmed the facts about Ginny, Neville and Luna getting in trouble over the sword in Snape's office. They, like Snape, had no way of knowing it was a fake and it now resided deep in the vaults at Gringott's. The news that Ginny was okay helped Harry's spirits. Of course, it did little to alleviate the pain of being separated from her.

The lack of the mentioning of Ron by Phineas left Hermione feeling good in that he must still be safely eluding capture. Phineas would have surely tormented them with the details of his capture or death, if such were to have occurred. Her heart won out over her brain's anger at him leaving. She wanted to know where he was hiding. He was certainly not at home. That would be way too dangerous. Number 12 Grimmauld had been compromised. He could not go back to Hogwarts, as desirable as good food and a soft bed might sound. And it was doubtful he knew how to find Charlie in Romania. That seemed to leave Ron little more than a life of hiding on the run, not unlike theirs.


	4. Chapter 4

Ron made it through the next few days without serious incident. He still did not have a clue as to how he could reunite himself with Harry and Hermione. He was beginning to think he might do best to settle in here and hope things would just bypass him. Maybe he could find work and blend into the local populations. But such was not to be.

In the morning, four new faces were sitting at a table eating breakfast as Ron came to the top of stairs leading down into the dining area. He stepped back into the shadows and watched the men with focused curiosity. After several minutes, Ron started to relax. They gave the impression of being nothing more than four muggle travelers. Then one of them reached across the table for the salt shaker and a wand fell out onto the table.

"Snatchers!" screamed his mind as the snatcher quickly grabbed it and shoved it back up into his sleeve as his associated cussed his carelessness. "I've got to get out of here."

The men finished their food and drinks. After paying, they got up and went outside. Ron cautiously made his way down while making certain he was not going to be seen through the window.

"Who was that lot?" he asked the waitress as he sat down. "I haven't seen them before."

"Can't say," she replied. "Just four travelers looking for a meal. Weren't very chatty about their business."

Ron decided it was time to move out of Crickhowell. This was the fifth time he was in need of avoiding snatchers. They seemed to fancy this village. He gathered his belongings into his backpack and made his way outside and down the road out of town. He had no idea where he was going, but it had to be away from here. Staying here was too dangerous.

He made his way into another village that seemed removed from the regular world. He went into a place called The Cod Wallop Inn. Carefully scanning the other patrons for anyone looking like they might be a snatcher, he sat down to order dinner.

After a decent dinner of fish and chips with a pint of ale, he inquired about rooms. The proprietor took him upstairs and showed him a small room with a bed, chair, light and not much else. Ron paid him for five nights and settled in.

The bed was not a good as the one at The Stolen Lamb, but it was still better than the cot in the tent. His thoughts were filled with Harry and Hermione as he tried to get comfortable and drift off into sleep. He still could not shake the guilt of what he had done under the influence of the locket. It had damaged his friendship, perhaps permanently. And it may have cost him any chance at building a relationship with Hermione. This was the most painful part of all.

The next morning he enjoyed a hot breakfast and then went out to inspect the village. He expected…hoped…he would be able to spend a lengthy amount of time here unhampered by snatchers. He took no joy in having to be constantly looking over his shoulder like a common thief.

By dinner time he had seen pretty much all there was to see. It was quite a pleasant place, very peaceful. Everyone seems friendly and decent. He could see living here in the future after things settled down.

Ron was most of the way through a dish of Shepherd's Pie that reminded him of his mother's when the door to the pub opened. In walked five rough-looking men. He immediately got a bad feeling. He did not like getting that feeling so soon after arriving in this village.

He slid his chair around so he had his back to them but could see them in the large mirror over the bar. As the waitress walked up to them, he watched to see if she treated them like locals or strangers. Within a few seconds, it was quite clear they were not from around here.

Ron quickly finished his food and made his way to the stairs without showing them his face. Once he made it to the top he stopped and watched to see if they were interested in him. When the waitress arrived with their drinks they started ordering food. It appeared he was safe for the time being.

He stayed upstairs for a while hoping they would leave. When he finally decided to go back to the shadows atop the stairs that is exactly what they were doing. Once they had left he went back downstairs. He ordered a drink and sat down.

"That was a strange-looking lot," he said as the waitress brought him his drink.

"I agree," she said. "Never seen 'em 'round 'ere. One of 'em said to rest this place looked full of—uh—muggles. Least that what I think 'e said. When they left they were talking about looking 'round a bit."

"Damn," thought Ron. "Haven't been here a day and snatcher already. Now, what should I do?"

The following morning he was very careful to be on the lookout for the snatchers when he went down for breakfast. The waitress brought him a bowl of porridge and sausage along with some coffee and a large glass of tomato juice.

"That same bunch from last night was in 'ere again," she said as she sat down his drinks. "You just missed 'em. Not the friendliest lot. Actin' like they might be up to somethin'."

"Yeah. I thought the same. Probably need watchin'," replied Ron.

However, in his mind, he was saying "I need to get out of here. Where do I go? now. These snatchers are everywhere."

Ron went upstairs and gathered his belongings into his backpack. "What do I do? What do I do? What would Hermione do?" kept running through his mind. Finally, on a leap of faith, he apparated to Shell Cottage. He prayed Bill and Fleur would take him in and no tell anyone. It was the only thing he could think to do.

Harry and Hermione had been having several more talks over time with the less than pleasant, overtly snoopy portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. They were never friendly, and Phineas often tried to pry hints at their location out them. However, they did learn occasional bits of new that bolstered their spirits.

Winter was approaching, and along with it Christmas. Harry and Hermione could occasionally see Christmas lights twinkling on the streets and buildings of nearby towns and villages. The lack of progress was tormenting all of their minds.

One night following a better than average dinner prepared by Hermione after she had slipped into a nearby town and gathered the makings of spaghetti adorned with bottled Bolognese sauce paired with a tin of pears using the invisibility cloak for cover, Harry tried to start a conversation with her. She was curled up rereading The Tales of Beedle the Bard for the umpteenth time.

At first, Harry tried to start a conversation about his desire to go to Godric's Hollow, but Hermione turned it into a discussion on the symbol in the book that they would eventually learn represented the Deathly Hallows.

Eventually, Harry managed to tell Hermione of his wish to go to Godric's Hollow. She readily agreed with him. But in classic Hermione fashion, she demanded they plot and plan the trip down to the minutest detail.

A week later…a short time by Hermione's typical planning time…they were ready to leave for their trip. All of their gear was packed, the routines rehearsed and goals identified.


	5. Chapter 5

Ron was sitting in his room. He did a lot of that these days. Even though he was safe, he was still confined to the area within the dome of enchantments.

Life at Shell Cottage was very comfortable compared to life on the run. He had a good bed, food, excellent food and the company of Bill and Fleur. He knew his family was still safe even though they did not about his safety. He also had a radio giving him all sorts of wizarding news and The Daily Prophet to give him the Ministry's version of the news.

As wanted criminals, Harry, Hermione and him were frequently in the news. This meant they were still safe and on the run. He yearned in his heart to be back with them, but he had no way of guessing where they were hiding. For all he knew, they could be out of the country.

For some reason, Harry and Hermione were especially prominent in his thoughts tonight, especially Hermione. He wished he had learned how to express his feelings for her. He vowed in his heart to do it if he ever found her again.

It was late in the evening when they arrived on the snow-covered main street of Godric's Hollow under cover of the invisibility cloak and polyjuiced into bodies of a fiftyish muggle couple. Both of them were nervous and anxious about being there. Harry could feel the beating of Hermione's heart over his own as she pressed against him.

A minute later they were walking without the benefit of the invisibility cloak. Despite Hermione's extensive planning, she had not figured in the possibility of snow and the fact that even while hidden under the cloak they will still leave tracks. Using only their polyjuice potion-made muggle disguise, they walked slowly down the street with Hermione clinging to Harry's arm. They tried not to draw the attention of the other muggles going from place to place.

Harry's heart was heavy with thoughts of his own history in this place. It was here he went from a happy baby to an orphan with an unimaginable future awaiting him of him with little more than a couple of flashes of green light.

Hermione's mind was cooking on high with thoughts of what they needed to do and how could they do it. Her heart was feeling Harry's pain at being here, as well. She wished, for some reason, that Ron was here to crack a joke and break the tension of the situation.

They eventually came to a war memorial statue that transformed into a statue of James, Lily and baby Harry as they approached. This was a highly emotional moment for Harry. He was glad Hermione was holding onto him. He needed the moral support.

Moving further down the street, they started to hear singing coming from the town's church. As they got closer they realized the songs were carols and this must be Christmas Eve.

"Look behind the church," said Hermione softly as she pointed her hand.

Harry could see a graveyard through the trees. "Do you think they are in there—uh—my—uh parents?" asked Harry in a trembling voice.

With great effort, they pushed open the gate. The snow was nearly knee deep. They trudged in. Before long they started seeing familiar names of wizarding families. They saw Abbott, Prewett, even the grave of Dumbledore's mother and sister. Harry did not even know he had a sister, but Hermione confirmed it from her readings in Rita Skeeter's book.

As Harry continued the search for the grave of his parents Hermione called him over to a very old marker. It belonged to, as best they could make out, a person named Ignotus Peverell. What caught their attention was the marker also had the weird symbol of the triangle with the eye being crossed by a line on it.

A few moments later Hermione called Harry over to another marker. A wave of emotion almost toppled him as he saw the names of his parents on it.

Harry's tears flowed free as he choked and sobbed. Unlike Hermione, he was not ashamed of or afraid to show his emotions. His heart freely opened the floodgates and poured tear out of his eyes as his brain pondered a strangely comforting desire to crawl into the grave with his parents and be removed from the pain of the world.

As Harry finally started to regain some of his composure Hermione conjured a wreath of Christmas roses. Harry took and knelt down to place it on against the marker. As he started to stand up his knees almost failed him as the tears started to flow harder once again.

After a moment they started to fight their way through the snow and out of the cemetery. They walked slowly past the now dark church, Harry's arm around Hermione's shoulders, hers around his waist. The carols they had heard earlier were now coming from a well-lit pub, but in a more boisterous fashion than before.

To the outward eye, they appeared like lovers or at least a happily married couple. No one could sense the pain they had just experienced. No one could see that on the inside they were both wishing their embraces were shared a different person.

When they reached the opposite end of the street from which they had entered they came upon a wrecked house…the house where it had happened. A golden sign, which along with the house, paid tribute paid tribute to James, Lily and Harry bore witness to the event. Hermione was annoyed that so many people had marked it with graffiti. Harry's heart, on the other hand, swelled with pride and joy at seeing the level of support offered him by the markings.

Then they saw a figure. She looked ancient, bent and frail. They instinctively knew who she was. She motioned to them to follow her. A moment later they were entering the house of Bathilda Bagshot with hopes of learning things and with the best of luck, discovering the hiding place of the Sword of Gryffindor.

The meeting turned into a nightmarish disaster. The Bathilda they met turned out to be Nagini living within Bathilda's decaying skin. It had murdered her sometime in the past, thus explaining the stench that permeated the house. Harry and Hermione barely escaped with their lives from the attack of the powerful serpent and, possibly, the appearance of Voldemort. The only casualty of the attack was Harry's treasured holly and phoenix feather wand. It was fractured in half by a rebounding Confringo curse cast by Hermione as Harry pulled them through an upstairs window and into the darkness of apparition.

It was Christmas morning. Bill and Fleur had used the presence of Ron to get out of going to The Burrow for the annual gathering. They lied and told his parents they wanted to spend their first Christmas together as just the two of them.

After rising, Ron ate a bowl of porridge along with some sausages and a glass of milk. As the day passed, he remarked that is was the first Christmas in his life he did not get a ghastly sweater from mom. Bill laughed, having been receiving one every year, as well. Secretly, his heart yearned for a different present…a way back to Harry and Hermione.

Harry found himself safely back in their tent when he awakened the next morning. A haggard Hermione was watching over him. Her red, swollen eyes were surrounded by dark, shadowy rings making her look exhausted unto ill. She had obviously spent the whole night tending to him as he, as he would learn later, tossed and turned, ranted and rave in a tortured, sleep-like delirium fueled by the events of the trip to Godric's Hollow and the effects from the bite he received from Nagini.

He had no doubts about the strength of Hermione's heart. This was not the first time she had worn herself ragged caring for someone or something. For example, she had done the same caring for Ron after he got splinched during their escape from the Ministry with the accursed locket that was now tormenting them. Harry sometimes wondered how someone this passionate and caring about things like elves and friends could not find a way to express her true feelings to Ron. He saw her tears, although she did her best to hide them. He had no way of knowing the constant struggle between heart and an overpowering brain that Hermione lived on a daily basis.

Harry eventually found out that his prized holly and phoenix feather wand had been broken during their escape. He begged Hermione to fix it, but her efforts failed. She reminded him of how Ron's wand could not be fixed after the crash into the Whomping Willow. This was the first time either of them had said his name since his departure.

Back in Shell Cottage Ron was listening to the radio when he heard a voice emanate from his pocket. It seemed to have said, "Ron…and wand and a few other unintelligible words. It sounded like Hermione.

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out Dumbledore's deluminator. He was certain the voice came from it. A click later he saw a ball of light. Grabbing his possessions, he followed until it came at him and went inside him right at his heart. He apparated and found himself on a snowy hillside.

He was positive Harry and Hermione were nearby, most certainly hidden by their enchantments. It took three days of faith that included moving to a new location, but he was finally rewarded by the sight of a spectral doe being followed by Harry.

He followed Harry in anticipation of a reunion, that is if Harry wanted one. His heart ached a little, knowing that he might get sent off, instead. He had no way of knowing if the anger of his departure had cooled over the weeks.

Ron arrived at the frozen pond just as Harry jumped in. He waited for a moment and then he realized something was wrong. Harry was not resurfacing. Seconds later he had jumped in and pulled both Harry and the Sword of Gryffindor onto the safety of the shore.

The saving of Harry's life led to a good start at the resolving of their difference. It climaxed with the destruction of the locket by Ron and the sword. By the time they made it back to the tent, Harry had told of Hermione crying for weeks and her still weeping on occasion. He also explained how their relationship was purely of the brother and sister kind. They both hoped the reunion with Hermione would be a cheerful one. However, such was not to be.

After a moment of recognition in which Harry's heart soared with what he felt was the best news they had received since Ron's leaving, Hermione got up. At the same time, Ron's heart was finally seeing the one person it had been aching for like a drowning man desiring air to breathe. Inside, he was exploding with joy. Then all hell broke loose.

Hermione's heart wanted to throw her into his arms, but as always her brain had different ideas. The ever-dominant critical side of her brain with its cold calculus and unforgiving wall not only quashed the desires of her heart, but it also cast aside the nurturing slice of her heart…the piece that had done things as recently as staying up all night caring for Harry after the fiasco in Godric's Hollow.

A hellish storm ignited in her eyes as she launched herself across the tent with all of the fury of a woman scorned. She hit and cursed him with such violence Harry had to cast a Protego charm between them. It was fortunate he still had her wand. It is anyone's guess what she might have done at that moment if she had it. Even though they were separated, it was clear she wanted to rain down upon him punches, virulent oaths and to otherwise pummel and punish him with unrighteous indignation until the malignant demon that had fed itself on the pain of each of the individual teardrops she had shed over him was sated tenfold.

While Harry and Ron were back on good terms, by the end of the scene it was clear it was going to take a fair amount of time before the relationship between Ron and Hermione was mended, if that was even possible. In the interim, many careful steps were going to be needed.

During the ensuing days, Hermione's animosity toward Ron slowly cooled to the point where she was no longer overtly angry. She was, however, still full of icy stares and scowls, and the occasional cutting remark. But progress was, albeit grudgingly, being made.

The relationship between Ron and Harry was rapidly approaching fine. Almost all of the friction caused by Ron's angry departure was headed into the all is forgiven, past tense realm. The feelings of their long-standing friendship were cleansing the ill thoughts in the brains as they emanated out of the bonds made over six years in their hearts.

Hermione returned most of her attention to the quest of searching out the location of the remaining horcruxes. This benefited everyone, especially Ron, as this distraction acted as a damper on her anger towards him.

She eventually expressed a desire to go see Xenophilius Lovegood to discuss the frequent occurrences of what they would learn from him was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Ron used her request as an opportunity to get back further into her good graces. Harry opposed it wanting to focus on searching for the other horcruxes. However, he was outvoted.

Unfortunately, the trip to the Lovegoods would turn into another nightmarish disaster on the scale of the trip to Godric's Hollow. The three of them barely escaped with their freedom and lives. Ron and Hermione were both very angry with the betrayal of them by Xenophilius. Harry, on the other hand, was more understanding. Being made twice an orphan, his heartfelt for Xenophilius. He knew the pain of losing a loved one.

Despite the gains in knowledge, which was of varying value based on who you asked, did not bring them closer to finding the next horcrux. It only led to them becoming divided in where they should be focusing their efforts. Harry's heart and brain were convinced they needed to pursue the Death Hallows.

Harry was certain he had one hallow in the invisibility cloak. He also believed the Resurrection Stone was hidden inside the golden snitch Dumbledore had left him in his will. It was only necessary for him to figure out how to open it for him to gain possession of it, the second hallow. His connection with Voldemort told him the Dark Lord was seeking the Elder Wand even though he was unaware of the existence of the Deathly Hallows.

Hermione's brain flatly refused to buy into the concept of the existence of the idea of the 'Hallows'. Ron was halfway in between, but his heart was steering his brain to side with Hermione for obvious reasons. Because of Harry's remoteness from them on the issues, Ron became more and more the de facto leader driving the group forward.

As days turned into weeks and then into months they remained divided. Finally, Ron cracked the password for Potterwatch and they heard real, up-to-date news with familiar voices and encouraging word. Three hearts soared together as they reunited in the resolve to move forward. They talked excitedly, unaware that tragedy was just seconds away.

Harry's brain slipped and he said 'Voldemort' despite Ron's attempt to stop him. That broke the taboo placed on the name by those looking to capture mudbloods, blood traitors and other people such as members of the Order of the Phoenix. In seconds they were attacked by a group of very aggressive Death Eater. Just as the burst into the tent Hermione hit Harry with a stinging jinx that concealed his identity. A moment later they were unceremoniously dragged out of the tent and tied up with some others who had been captured earlier.

The others turned out to be Dean Thomas and the goblin Griphook. They were all hauled away to Malfoy Manor. They had been captured while the companions Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and a goblin named Gornak and were killed.

Malfoy Manor turned out to be a nightmarish encounter capable of making Godric's Hollow and the Lovegood home visits seem like picnics. All three of them had faced death in the past, but never like this.

Hermione's anguished screams from above echoed in harmony with Ron's wails from the cellar of 'Hermione' each time Bellatrix wrenched her mind and soul with lashes of the Cruciartus Curse from her unyielding wand.

"How did you get into my vault?" "Who helped you?" "What else did you take?" screamed Bellatrix.

"Nothing!" We took nothing!" "We were never in your vault!" "The sword presented itself to us!" bawled Hermione, her voice growing weaker and weaker with each stroke of the torture curse striking her.

How much more could she endure? They all knew that Voldemort would certainly be summoned once the identity of Harry was confirmed. This was only a warm up to the things he would do to all of them before he finally granted them the relief found in death.

If not for the blue eye in the shard of mirror Harry had carried for so long in his sock that sent Dobby to help them, they all knew they were destined to die this day. Dobby's heartfelt love and loyalty to Harry, a love that would cost him life this day, was the only chance to save them all.

Ron's heart stopped, causing him to nearly collapse when Harry and he reached the top of the stairs and saw a bloody, lifeless Hermione on the floor next to Bellatrix. It was only after he saw some faint, quivering movement from her that he gained the strength to enter the battle to rescue her. They ultimately escaped seconds before the arrival of Voldemort with the help of Dobby to Shell Cottage to live another day.

Seeing Dobby die in the arms of Harry after his heroic efforts tore apart the hearts of those he had saved, none more than the heart of Harry. Dobby was in a lot of ways a mischievous, worshipful little brother to Harry. Once more Harry had lost a member of his sparse family. For him, the pain was particularly excruciating.

The next days would prove to be yet another test of Harry's resolve. In order for the trio to advance, he would have to choose between heart and brain, between taking forward their quest in search of either horcruxes or hallows.


	6. Chapter 6

Time, along with the ordeal at Malfoy Manor had finished the cooling down of Hermione's anger toward Ron. She was back to wishing she could express her feelings to him but was still wallowing in the self-doubt and fears that had crippled her efforts for years. She was spending most of her time trying to convince Harry to pursue the horcruxes.

Ron was more in love with Hermione than ever, but still not able to act on it. What would she want with him? He was not even half as smart as her. And even though she would deny it, she was too pretty for him, as well. The night at the Yule Ball was all the proof his mind needed to believe that story. His heart and brain were split between the need to continue the hunt for the horcruxes and the need to hunt for the hallows, instead. He tended to side with Hermione for obvious reason.

After some conversations with Griphook and Mr. Ollivander, Harry finally made the decision to keep it a hunt for horcruxes. They needed to figure out a way into Bellatrix's vault at Gringott's.

Harry made a less than well-thought-out agreement with Griphook to trade with the sword for getting the trio into the vault. There was a strong sense that there was a horcrux hidden there. They discussed ways to trick Griphook into accepting the fake sword despite Bill tell them it would be impossible and extremely dangerous to double cross a goblin.

Hermione shifted into full planning mode. Even though most of their plans had erupted into chaos, she was not to be thwarted. Affairs of the heart were out of the question. She was fixated the way she used to get in the lead up to exams at Hogwarts.

Weeks went by as ideas, detail, plans were hatched, altered, dropped and fine-tuned. Harry was getting more and antsier. He knew Voldemort had come to the doors of Hogwarts in retrieving the sword. He knew people continued to die and disappear. His heart and brain knew time was not their friend. Still, it was not until May that they decided they were ready to act.

The next morning the slipped out of the cottage before the crack of dawn. Hermione used polyjuice to change into Bellatrix. Consuming it along with a hair from Bellatrix tore at her heart and tormented her brain. Even hearing the voice of Hermione coming from the fake Bellatrix caused Ron and Harry to wince with revulsion.

A moment later Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook emerged on Charing Crossing. The minds of the trio were racing and hearts pounding in unison as the moved toward the Leaky Cauldron.

Within moments they were in Diagon Alley and the carefully crafted plan started to unravel almost immediately with a chance meeting of the Death Eater known as Travers. They made it past the guard and got into the car the vaults thanks to the Imperius Curse. All of them were already having second thoughts about what they were getting themselves into.

By the time they got past the dragon and reached to door to the vault, their brains were becoming more and more concerned about the ever-present possibility of them all being captured or killed. Even if they found a horcrux inside, their chances of making it out there to safety seemed to be falling by the second. Their hearts started grasping onto whatever shreds of hope remained.

Once inside the vault, they fell victims to the Gemino and Flagrante curses placed on the contents of the vault. Forced to complete their bargain of the cup for the sword, Griphook abandoned them as they struggled to make it out of the fiery vault. Once out they came under fire off the guards. Their circumstance had not improved.

All stinging from the burns of the Flagrante curse, Harry managed to get onto the back of the dragon as Ron and Hermione also struggle aboard.

"Relashio!" shouted Harry, breaking the chains on the dragon.

The dragon, sensing it was free, started dashing toward freedom while spewing fire at the guards. Hermione began casting blasts of the Defolio charm to gouge the passageway large enough for the dragon. Harry and Ron joined her as they made it to the exit, into the main room and out through the doors to freedom as the dragon flew into the sky over London.

Harry clung to the dragon as they flew higher and higher. Hermione was openly crying, unable to restrain her emotions as the fear in her heart overwhelmed her brain. Ron, who should have been heeding a rare agreement between his heart and brain, should have been comforting Hermione. He was, instead, cussing and cursing horcruxes, Voldemort, Griphook, and every other imaginable thing.

The dragon flew north for what seemed like hours as they tried to gather their wits. Ron's tirade wound down and he resided himself to quietly hang on for fear of falling off the dragon. Hermione's tears stopped and her brain started boiling over with thoughts of how close they had come to dying. She could not help recounting all of their other brushes with death since their first year at Hogwarts and noticing each one was progressively worse than the previous one. She knew Voldemort still loomed in front of them. How would they be able to defeat him now that he had the Elder Wand?

Harry's mind finally got off what had just happened and moved onto Voldemort. How long would it be before he learned of the break-in of Bellatrix's vault at Gringott's? It was only a matter of time before he discovered they had taken the Hufflepuff Cup. Once he knew they were hunting his horcruxes he would come for them with fury yet unseen. His heart could feel a sense of growing danger.

The dragon eventually started losing altitude as they were passing over one of the small lakes dotting the landscape. "It might be thirsty or getting tired," thought Harry. "It could be looking for a place to land."

He knew they did not want to be near it when it landed. A split second decision was made to jump as they neared the surface of the lake. It was their best chance to escape the fate of those who got between it and freedom while escaping the vaults.

They landed in the cold lake water and struggled ashore. It actually felt good on the roasted bodies. The burns from the Flagrante curse had rendered them all sore and tender. Hermione quickly pulled some dittany from her bag and started sharing it around. Once they were all medicated, she pulled out some clean, dry robes and they changed into them.

As darkness started to fall, they sat up camp in anticipation of recovering from their latest ordeal. It was then Voldemort invaded Harry's brain. By the end of the encounter, he knew Voldemort knew they were hunting his horcruxes. Fortunately, Voldemort was unaware of how many of them had been destroyed. If he knew, he would have been more furious that he was. Unfortunately, he was now on a mission to take inventory of his stock. He would soon know that four were already destroyed and a fifth was in their possession. The need to act was now.

Harry told the others what he now knew and that it was imperative that they got to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Hermione's brain instinctively said they needed to first have a plan even though her heart was telling her different. Harry was very insistent in overruling her reservations. He understood the urgency. Ron, whose heart was predisposed to siding with Hermione, listened to his brain for a change and agreed with Harry.

Moments later they had broken down and packed away their camp, including their newly-acquired tent. They clustered together and pulled the invisibility cloak over them instead of the blankets of their bed they so desired. Hermione's brain was in overdrive. Spontaneity was not her strong suit. She was trying to contemplate was fresh, new hell they might heading toward. Harry was following the direction of his heart. He knew the dangers and had felt the intensified anger in Voldemort.

Seconds later, they were on the main street of Hogsmeade. They needed to get into Honeyduke's and use the One-Eyed Witch Passage into Hogwarts. This did not sound too difficult. Then there was a screaming alarm going off like a hundred angry cats. A swarm of Death Eater burst out of the Three Broomsticks.

With the aid of the darkness, they got under the cloak and backed into an alleyway just missing being caught by inches. They tried to apparate away but some type of curse was preventing it. Then it got cold and dementors filled the air.

Left without an option, Harry was forced to cast his patronus to drive them off. This alerted the Death Eaters who began running in their direction. Suddenly a door opened and they were ushered inside seconds before the Death Eaters filled the alley.

A moment later they were in the presence of a less than optimistic Aberforth Dumbledore. He took them on an emotional trip sending their hearts and brains on a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. They learned many things about Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts and how he had watched over them. However, a lot of it was not encouraging to their quest. He called into question almost everything they knew, or thought they knew, about Dumbledore and their mission.

Still, Harry was resolved to follow his heart and press forward into the school. With great reluctance and pessimism, Aberforth asked the portrait of Ariana go to Hogwarts and bring what turned out to be a beaten a bedraggled Neville to them. He led them into the school and to what would be a reunion with many of remaining members of Dumbledore's Army.


	7. Chapter 7

The depressed spirit of the room exploded into joyous celebration as Harry, Ron and Hermione appeared behind Neville. Their hearts were bouncing off the ceiling. This was it. The revolution to wrest Hogwarts from Snape, the Carrows and the evil to lay over it like a dark, foul-smelling, wet blanket was about to happen.

As the news got out to the other members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix and they started to make it to the room the level of enthusiasm continued to raise. The trio could not help but be infected. They had lived in exiled isolation for too long. Their hearts were overwhelming their brains.

After a few moments, Harry jumped up and broke the mood as he fought against Voldemort's attempted intrusion behind his burning scar. He began telling the group they were on a mission that he could not divulge. The masses could not understand him. They were ready to fight. They wanted to fight. They needed to understand what was happening.

He tried to explain that Dumbledore had left the mission for them to solve on their own. This did not sit well with the others. They were loyal to Dumbledore and Harry fighters. They had been driven into hiding because of it. They needed more than this to satisfy them.

Then it happened. It was the one thing that could explode Harry's ecstatic mood. Ginny walked into the room.

Harry's heart shot higher than he thought possible. It was really Ginny. It was the one person he wanted to see above all others. There she was, looking at him, She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her eyes and smile were like electricity going straight into him.

Then, just as quickly as it had soared upward, his brain sent his heart crashing to the ground. Why was she here? She should not be here. He wanted her to be anywhere but here. She and the others had no idea what was coming. As much as his heart wanted him to grab her and never let go, his brain was telling him she needed to go, far away, as soon as possible.

The reunion continued with hearts donating and brains left to the side. Everyone was ready to fight, but Harry was telling them the three of them had not returned for that. They were on a mission given to them by Dumbledore that they were not at liberty to discuss. This did not sit well with the army, which was relegated to being cooped up in the Room of Requirement because of their passionate beliefs.

Harry's scar was burning as he saw Voldemort discovering another destroyed horcrux. He knew their time was limited. They needed to find this object. But what was it and where could it be hidden.

Ron said they did not have to tell the people what it was they were looking for. Hermione agreed and Harry pondered the thought as his head threatened to split open. Finally, he told them they needed their help to find something hidden in the castle. Brains started to re-engage, but when he could not identify the item the upset started to boil back up in their hearts and brains. It was only after they decided it was probably Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem that anger started to subside.

Cho offered to take Harry into the Ravenclaw Common Room so he could see a replica of the diadem on her statue. This cause Ginny's heart to turn green with suspicion and jealousy. Hackles raised, she insisted Luna should be the one to assist Harry. Luna actually seemed delighted with the idea and the two of them departed the room through a series of odd, twisty passages.

Moments later they had made it to the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room and dormitories. It was higher up than Harry had ever been in the castle. He quietly marveled at the way Luna figured out the riddle and opened the door. He loved her in a good friend kind of way. Unlike many, he often found the wisdom in her words. To him, she was a very special and completely unique person.

Luna was noticeably more gleeful than usual, even though she did not say anything. Between having her idea of looking for the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw and getting to lead Harry up to the Ravenclaw Common Room was exciting. Although she did not let it bother her, she knew people often dismissed her as odd, nonsensical, loony. They did not take her seriously a good share of the time. They treated most of her ideas and statements as weird. Her heart was enjoying these moments of being respected and useful.

Harry saw the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw as they entered the common room. He stepped up onto the plinth and examined the statue. When he saw the delicate marble rendering of the diadem he sensed something familiar in the back of his brain. Then he was shocked by the sound of a hissing, wheezing voice. Whirling around, he was confronted with the Umbridgesque form of Alecto Carrow as she pressed her finger against her Death Eater tattoo.

Harry's brain felt like it would explode as he heard Voldemort say, "They've got the boy". The vision in his mind was of Voldemort standing on the rocks outside the cave that had contained the Slytherin locket. He knew it would not take him long to make it to Hogwarts.

Alecto raised her wand to stun Harry. His heart sunk as the burning from Voldemort in his brain preventing him from acting. Then there was a flash and a crack. Luna was looking at him with a bit of amazement at how loudly her spell had hit Alecto. Harry and Luna quickly got back under the cloak as a thundering herd of footsteps on the stair indicated Luna's spell had awakened the entire house.

The students, all in the bedclothes, gathered around their fallen tormentor. They seemed quite delighted until they heard a pounding on the common room door and the angry voice of Amycus Carrow trying to gain entry. As the students rushed back up to their dorm rooms the voice of Amycus was joined by that of Minerva McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall answered the riddle and the two of them gained entry as the last of the students disappeared. Amycus quickly became enraged when he found Alecto on the floor and no Potter to be found.

He reasoned out a plan to blame the students for the false alarm. When Professor McGonagall told him she would not stand for it he spat in her face. Harry was a true Gryffindor and the affront the head of his house was like a knife in the heart. This caused Harry to burst out from under the cloak and hit Amycus hard with the Cruciartus Curse. This sudden appearance of Harry caused Professor McGonagall to nearly collapse. Then, when Luna suddenly appeared a moment later after Harry told the professor Voldemort was on his way she fell back into a chair to gather her wits.

In his heart, Harry wanted to tell Professor McGonagall everything about his mission. However, his brain made him hold back and simply tell her he was working on Dumbledore's orders and searching for something hidden in the school that could help defeat Voldemort.

She immediately said she could help him and that they needed to enlist the aid of the other professors to protect the school while he searched for the hidden item. She hung the still unconscious Carrow from the ceiling in a silver mesh net and had Harry and Luna get back under the cloak. She led then out onto the stairways with three spectral cat patronuses lighting the way.

They proceeded downward with the cat patronuses leaving them one by one. Everything was proceeding well until they heard the noise of someone approaching. Seconds later, Severus Snape appeared in front of them wand ready, as snide, suspicious and contentious as ever. Harry's brained fumed with the rekindled hatred he harbored against Snape. Even his heart, which usually worked to mitigate his anger and rage was inflamed with the desire to attack the constant tormentor that had made what could have been wondrous years at Hogwarts less joyful than they should have been.

He bickered with Professor McGonagall until it was too late. A fight erupted with each of them giving as well as they took. It was only when professors Flitwick, Sprout and a wheezing, panting professor Slughorn appeared that the fight took a turn against the outmanned Professor Snape.

The professors pursued the bolting Snape up the stairs and into a classroom. By the time Harry and Luna had shed the cloak and started to pursue the combatants, it was too late. They heard the breaking of glass and Professor McGonagall yell "Coward" as the entered the room. A bat-like shape that was most certainly the fleeing Snape was headed over the walls of the castle and disappearing into the darkness.

Harry's brain rejoiced at the defeat and ignominious flight of the person he despised more than any other person in his life outside of Voldemort. However, his heart wished Snape was still there so that he, too, might join in the defeat and extract some level of revenge for all of his year of suffering under his presence.

As the scene cooled and wits were gathered Harry and Professor McGonagall explained the situation to the professors Flitwick and Sprout. By the time professor came gasping for air into the room they were fully aware of the imminent danger that was racing their way and Harry's need to stave off Voldemort's arrival until he could find the mysterious object needed to help defeat the Dark Lord. They also decided it was paramount to figure out how to evacuate the younger students and others who wanted to leave. Harry explained about the new secret passage out into the Hogshead and they agreed it would work.

Professor Sprout headed off to gather her house. Professor Flitwick started casting spells through the broken window. This battle could make the first battle, despite the loss of Dumbledore, pale in comparison. As she prepared to head off and gather her house, Professor McGonagall argued with a less than enthusiastic Professor Slughorn calling his loyalty and the loyalty of his house to the school into question.

Moments later, Harry and Luna were hurriedly heading back into the Room of Requirement. Harry was a jumble of conflict. His heart was geared up to fight to the end. His brain was busy trying to figure out where to look for the diadem and how to battle Voldemort and his forces.

They found a chaotic scene inside the room upon their return. The number of members of Dumbledore's Army had doubled and most of the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix were also present. In addition, masses of students and their escorts were heading into the passage on way to escaping by way of the Hogshead.

"Do you see Ron or Hermione?" Harry asked as his eyes darted around the room.

"No," said Luna.

"I've got to find them. I need their help."

"Ohhhhh. I will help you look."

In the middle of the room, the Weasley family was engaged in an argument. Molly was berating Fred and George for bringing Ginny with them. Harry's emotional heart yearned to go to her, to be with her, but the critical side of his brain overruled the emotional part and his heart.

Molly was saying Ginny was too young to be there and had to leave. The fact Ginny was her only daughter, the daughter she so desperately wanted as she gave birth to six sons, played a huge role in her emotional determination. Ginny was arguing for naught about wanting to stay and fight. In the middle of it, Percy appeared, contrite and apologetic for abandoning the family for the ministry. The family was once again whole.

The fight over Ginny was only resolved when Molly agreed with Lupin, who stepped in with a suggestion that Ginny should stay but not leave the room. Ginny did not like it but agreed after a very stern stare from her father.

Harry began searching the room for Ron and Hermione. He needed his friends more than ever to help figure out the plan of action. "Has anyone seen Ron and Hermione?" he asked the group.

"They said something about a bathroom," replied Ginny.

As Harry inspected the empty bathroom in the room he was suddenly overcome. His brain threatened to explode as he saw a vision of Voldemort at the gates. It was beginning to happen. He needed to find Ron and Hermione. They needed to find the diadem as soon as possible.

Resolved that Ron and Hermione must be elsewhere, he made his way up to the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was there directing the leaders to take their houses to the evacuation site. Then, as if things were not chaotic enough, Voldemort's voice emanated from the walls. He warned them of the futility of their efforts and demanded they turn over Harry.

McGonagall asked him why he was there and not searching for whatever it was he needed to find. Harry snapped back to reality. His heart and brain had been preoccupied with finding Ron and Hermione. He left to continue his search as the professors and Order of the Phoenix planned their defenses.


	8. Chapter 8

All of this time Ron and Hermione had been on a mission of their own. They had the cup and no way to destroy it. Finding the diadem would not be enough to defeat Voldemort. It would just give them another horcrux they could not destroy.

"What are we going to do, Ron?" asked Hermione, trying to be heard over the chaos consuming the room. "We have the cup. How can we destroy it?"

"I wish we still had the sword. I keep trying to get it to come to me. Damn that bloody Griphook," said Ron, his voice getting angry as he spoke.

"I keep trying to conjure it, too. Maybe goblins have a way of controlling it so we cannot get it back through magic."

"You're the brilliant one," replied Ron in a tone indicating it was coming from his heart and he was not trying to be a smart ass. "Are you sure you haven't got any ideas? I figured—well—I mean you must have something?

"No. I haven't," answered Hermione is a voice trailing off from frustrated to almost apologetic. Her brain, as it did with any problem that perplexed her over the years, was tormenting her. Her heart ached at not being able to provide an answer to this crucial puzzle. "Sometimes you—well, even I expect too much of me. I keep trying to think, but nothing is happening. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I'm not—uh—I mean it's just that we just depend…I"VE GOT IT!" exclaimed Ron in a voice loud enough to make a few passersby turn and look at him.

"Got what?" gasped Hermione, startled at the sudden declaration.

"The answer. I know how we can destroy the cup and diadem."

"How, Ron? How?" said Hermione in an excited, expectant voice.

"There are basilisk fangs in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with one."

"But how do we get one? How can we get into it? Only Harry can open it. Neither of us are parselmouths.

"Just follow me," said Ron as he jumped up and headed past Ginny. "We need to go to the second-floor girls' lavatory."

"What?" said Hermione with a confused look as she rose up and followed Ron toward the exit.

"The entrance is there," he yelled as he grabbed a broom leaning against the wall near the exit. "We're going to need this to get out. We need to hurry."

Moments later they entered the lavatory. They were surprised not to be greeted by Myrtle. She had apparently gone into hiding like most of the other beings who could not leave the castle.

Ron started making guttural hissing noise like they had heard Harry do in the past. It was obvious Ron was trying to imitate Harry and open the chamber. Hermione was skeptical of his attempts, but after a few tries the sinks began to part and the entrance appeared.

"We have to jump to get into it," said Ron. "It looks scary, but it's alright, just a little dirty at the bottom."

Hermione looked at him. She was both impressed he had opened it, but was a little frightened by the idea of blindly leaping into the dark hole.

"Just follow me," he said trying to look confident as he stepped up and leaped into the hole. He disappeared and a few seconds passed. Then his voice echoed up the bottom. "It's okay. Just jump."

She hesitated for a moment at the top. Then she closed her eyes and took the leap. A few seconds later she came screaming out of the tunnel as if she had just taken the first plunge on her first roller coaster ride with her parents at Alton Towers way back before coming to Hogwarts. She landed in the midst of the rat skeleton covered floor.

As she stood up she realized what was crunching under her feet. "Oooo!" she shrieked as she grabbed Ron's hand. "This is dreadful."

"Yeah," replied Ron. "I guess this is where the basilisk used to eat dinner."

They made their way toward the actual chamber entrance. In his heart, Ron was hoping it was still open. He did not want to have to try his luck at parseltongue a second time.

"This is a really dreadful place," said Hermione. "I hope we find some basilisk fangs. I really don't like it here."

"We'll be fine," replied Ron, trying to sound brave and confident. "There shouldn't be anything other than a few rats left down here. Oh! And a big old skin from the basilisk."

When they got to the chamber entrance Ron was relieved to find the door still opened. Hermione gasped as they walked inside.

"This is it. This is where Ginny and Harry were almost killed by Tom Riddle," said Hermione in an almost reverent tone as they entered the chamber and she got a view of the room with its giant carving of Salazar Slytherin.

"And me," shot in Ron, feeling slighted.

"Yes, you, too, Ronald," said Hermione with a tension-breaking chuckle.

Hermione then saw the giant skeleton of the basilisk lying on its back. It looked even bigger than the shed skin had led her to envision it. This was the remains of the creature that almost killed her in their second year. Her heart pounded and she felt shivers going up her back just thinking about the event.

Then her brain brought her back around and she focused on the fangs still embedded in the jaws of the beast. "We need to gather the fangs," she said. "Do you think they will still work."

"There is only one way to find out," said Ron. "Get the cup out of your bag."

"Yes, of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

Hermione dug into her bag and pulled out the small, golden cup that had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. "Go ahead, Ron," she said as placed it on the stone floor.

"No, you do it, Hermione," said Ron as he looked at her.

"I can't. You do it."

Sure you can. Harry did the diary. I did the locket. It is your turn."

"Ron," said Hermione as she gave Ron a pleading look.

As she opened her mouth to say something else Ron put a fang into her hand and said, "You can do it."

Hermione closed her hand on the fang and raised it into the air. Ron winced and withdrew slightly. After the locket, he was worried as to what might happen when she stabbed it. She looked at him once more and then at the cup. With a swift move, she pierced it with the fang.

There was a roar and the water erupted up around them. Then it cascaded back down over them. They smiled at each other.

"Another one down," said Ron.

"Yes, we need to go find Harry. We have what we need to destroy the diadem if he finds it."

They picked up the now-mangled cup and stood up. Hermione used a spell that shot a stream of hot air out of her wand to dry off their clothes as much as possible. Ron accused her of trying to cook him to which she said as she started to laugh, "You're lucky I didn't have my wand back in the tent that night. I just might have."

Once mostly dry, they gathered as many fangs as they could carry and mounted the broom Ron had brought. A few minutes later they were in the castle, having successfully dodged the fighting which was getting more and more intense. Now they needed to find Harry.


	9. Chapter 9

Unaware of the events surrounding Ron and Hermione, Harry was suddenly inspired by recalling the statement of no living person having seen the diadem. It was obvious. He knew he needed to speak to someone who was dead, probably the Grey Lady. He called out to Nearly Headless Nick and inquired about where she might be found. Nick pointed her out and Harry headed off in the small hope she would help him.

She was not overly friendly, but eventually confirmed Tom Riddle had gotten the secret hundreds of other could not get from her. Harry was now certain he needed to find the diadem. The fact Voldemort was here was a definite indication that the diadem was here, as well, and not in Albania.

Voldemort's presence continued to torment his brain as he ascended the Astronomy Tower. He still did not have any idea where the diadem was hidden, but he had to start somewhere.

The battle was raging and the castle was starting to incur damage. As he ran followed by Hagrid and Fang, who he had met moments before, he stepped over the disembodied head of a fallen stone statue. Seeing the stony head jogged his memory. He knew where the diadem was at last.

Harry ran with renewed purpose combine with terror back toward the Room of Requirement. His brain was racing with thoughts about what he had to do and how to do it. As his heart pounded, it also wanted to find Ron and Hermione. It knew Harry still needed them to complete the task and to defeat Voldemort.

Ron and Hermione were also rushing toward the room. They figured it was their best chance to get an idea of where to look for Harry now that they had something capable of destroying the horcrux he was seeking and to bring Voldemort one hit closer to defeat.

Harry raced past students, professors, more students, and even Aberforth, who had come to fight. Then, as he rounded a corner, there they were. His heart leaped with joy. Amidst mutual cheers, they embraced, never so happy to see each other in as long as they could remember.

Ron explained they had gone into the Chamber of Secrets and harvested basilisk fangs and had also killed the horcrux in the cup, so they knew they would work. Harry inquired how they had got into the chamber since neither of them could speak parseltongue.

Hermione explained how Ron had come up with the idea and spoke parseltongue to open the chamber. She had him demonstrate how he copied what Harry said when he opened the locket. All of the time she spoke she was repeatedly calling Ron and his plan brilliant. Harry had seldom heard her praise the intelligence of another person, let along Ron, in such glowing terms. It gave him a warm feeling in his heart.

Harry then explained the diadem was in the old Room of Requirement, the one where he had hidden his potions book the year before. They needed to clear out the current room so it would close, then they could open the correct one and find the diadem and destroy it.

Together they sprinted down and into the entrance to the room. Unlike before, it was empty except for Tonks, Ginny and Neville's grandmother. He explained they needed to leave so he could close this room and enter a different version of the room.

Neville's grandmother left to go find Neville and to fight alongside him. Tonks left to join Remus. Ginny was allowed to leave but was required to return to the room once they were finished. Once the room was empty they prepared to leave so it would close. Harry took that moment to wrap her in a tight hug paired with a kiss fueled by the desperation of the moment.

"I love you, Gin," said Harry as he stared into her beautiful eye.

"I love you, too," replied Ginny as she looked back into his.

"If we ever get out of this, I promised to love you forever."

"I am going to hold you to that," she said as she rekindled the kiss.

Ginny started out of the room. All that was left to do was for them to leave, as well. Then the room would close and they could reopen it as the room for hiding object where Harry knew they could find the diadem.

That is when it happened, right there at the most unlikely of times and places. Ron said they needed to warn the house elves, to give them a chance to leave just like everyone else. They did not need any more Dobby's. This triggered something inside Hermione that had been lying dormant, hidden, waiting for too many years for the right moment to assert itself. A strange, warm feeling filled her. The long-absent pieces finally awakened and took their proper places. The emotional side of her heart was finally whole.

It was also then that her heart and the nurturing side of her brain finally joined forces in overruling the critical side of her brain that had long-crippled her ability to express her true feelings for Ron. She knew they may not live out the night, but if they were destined to die, she was not going to do it without showing Ron that she loved him. The time was now.

Hermione's eyes looked across the room and locked with Ron's as she dropped the basilisk fangs. They bounced and clattered across the floor in a hollow cacophony. She stared at him and him at her for the eternity of a second. They were like two strangers who had known each other for years but had never actually met. It was time for them to be introduced.

As Hermione started across the room, a similar set of feelings filled Ron. It was now or never, and he was not going to allow himself to die without finally telling Hermione he loved her with all his heart. His critical brain needed to shut up and step aside. His heart was taking over.

Hermione was running by the time Ron dropped the broom and his load of basilisk fangs so he could meet her open arm sprint. Their hearts were like living magnets reaching out, locking grip and pulling them together. They met in an embrace charged with the intense passion pulsing through this long overdue moment. As Ron lifted Hermione off the ground their lips finally met for their first kiss. Hermione's heart threatened to explode, her brain short-circuiting in the electricity of the first romantic kiss of her life.

Harry looked at them, his heart thrilled that they were finally expressing their desires for each other. However, his brain could not believe they were doing it now. His comment about this finally being the moment rolled off them like water off a duck. It only caused them to increase their embrace and snogging twofold. It was not until Harry finally shouted that there was a war going on that they stopped kissing and broke apart, still not fully releasing their arms from around one another.


	10. Chapter 10

From there, the trio made it to the Room of Requirement. Just as Harry found it, right where he had left it a year earlier, they were attacked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. As a battle within the bigger battle erupted between them, Crabbe eventually set the room alight with the incredibly dangerous Fiendfyre Curse. It cost him his life and almost killed the entire group, but it also destroyed all of the contents of the room, including the diadem and the piece of Voldemort hidden within it.

Once out of the room, the group found that the war had moved inside the castle and was raging out of control. Fred, who they had found fighting alongside Percy as the charged down the corridors, was killed by a nearby blast. It nearly tore the heart out of all of them.

Voldemort still was unaware that the diadem had been destroyed and his only remaining horcrux was his prized pet, Nagini. He was unaware they were now seeking Nagini with the goal of killing the great snake.

Harry soon discovered that Voldemort was hiding in the Shrieking Shack. He was protecting Nagini and waiting for Harry to come to him. Against his better judgment and that of Ron and Hermione, he decided he had to go there. He had to kill the snake. It was the only option forward.

Once there, he was confronted with the vision in his mind of Voldemort talking to Snape. He watched and listened to Voldemort talk to Snape. He was convinced the Elder Wand would not work for him because Snape was its actual owner. He fatally injured Snape in the belief that he would now be the owner of the wand.

As he left the shack with the snake, Harry went to the dying professor and was given a vial of memories with the instruction to go to the pensieve and view them. Following the call for a temporary truce and another demand from the voice of Voldemort for him to surrender to him, Harry and the others headed back into the castle.

The entry to the castle was a sad, sobering scene when they arrived. Amidst the destruction lay the dead bodies of dozens of fallen fighters from both sides, most prominent amongst them were to side-by-side bodies of Remus and Tonks. Harry could not bear to join the Weasleys as Ron and Hermione made the way to where they were now mourning over the body of Fred. Instead, he made his way to the spiral stairway leading to the office of the headmaster.

Once in the office, he poured the memories of Snape into the pensieve. His total misunderstanding of Snape became more and more apparent as he stood immersed in Snape's inner secrets. He learned of Snape's love of his mother, his tortured life, his early-on betrayal of Voldemort in an attempt to protect her and him. He learned of Dumbledore's fatal condition and that his death by Snape's hand was by design. And finally, he learned about his own life, that he was a horcrux and needed to die in order for Voldemort be killed once and for all. The final news caused him to crumple onto the floor

Harry began pondered life as he started the walk that was destined to end in his death. He passed quietly out of the castle and made his way toward the forest and his death. His mind burned, flashing his life before him, pausing only to tell Neville of the importance of killing the snake. Inside, his heart was pounding, the jumble of emotions making it too hard to collate into thought.

"Where's Harry?" said Hermione in a hushed tone as she noticed he was no longer with them.

"I don't know," said Ron, also keeping his voice down as he looked up with tear streaks smearing the dust and dirt that had soiled his face. "I thought he was here."

"I can't see him, anywhere," said Hermione as she knelt down and put her arm around Ron. Tears were also flowing down her cheeks in full view of everyone. Hermione, the girl who had purposely hidden her tears for years The girl who acted ashamed of them not that long ago, was no longer concerned with hiding them. Her heart and Ron's felt like they had become one. She felt his pain. She felt the agony crushing in on the family's heart. She willingly let out her tears in support of him, his family and herself.

"Where do you suppose he went?" asked Ron as he tried to wipe the tears off his cheeks, but only succeeded in smearing things into a streaky, dirty mess. "Not the forest, I hope."

"I don't know," replied Hermione as she pulled out some tissue to clean off Ron's face and then her own. "He had that vial of memories. Maybe he went to look at them in that pensieve he told us about up in Dumbledore's—uh—Snape's office.

"That's probably it," said Ron, accepting that notion. "He is probably looking at them. I can't imagine what he will see coming out of Snape's mind. There has got to be some weird stuff up in there."

"Yes," agreed Hermione with a forced chuckle. "He will probably be back after he finishes."

They turned back to the family. They were needed here. Neither of them had a clue that the next time they saw Harry he would be dead.

Time passed and the mood in the room, while still sad and in shock at all that had taken place in the past few hours, was slowly gaining calmness. "Where can he be?" asked Hermione. "He should have been back by now."

"I'm sure he is alright."

"He's missing. It doesn't feel alright."

Yeah. Right," replied Ron. "Maybe we need to go look for him."

They both stood up. Ron put his arm around Hermione. She, in turn, put her arm around his waist. Even though they had no real idea of where to begin looking, they needed to go somewhere, they needed to move.

"You don't think he…" started Hermione

"…No! No! He wouldn't," interrupted Ron, know where she was going with her statement. "I'm sure he wouldn't."

They slowly walked toward the front doors. Just as they reached the entry the voice of Voldemort, the one that they had heard earlier, boomed from everywhere and nowhere. Its high-pitched hiss shattered the relative quiet that had slowly descended on the room over the past hour.

"Harry Potter is dead," it announced. Hermione's started to collapse. Ron caught her as he felt a hand grab his heart in a grip. His brain throbbed like it was about to explode. The whole room fell silent, becoming paralyzed chaos.

As Ron got Hermione back to her feet, he felt the need to go back to his family. Voldemort was coming. There is no telling what was going to happen when he arrived. Cold fear stabbed at him. He could literally feel his heart and Hermione's pounding against each other as she trembled in his embrace. They stood, waiting for the arrival of Voldemort and his army. While their brains were a hot mess, their hearts needed to see the proof in order to believe him. Somewhere inside them was still a sliver of faint hope that it was a lie and Harry still lived.

Harry feigned death as Hagrid was forced to carry his limp, lifeless body on Voldemort's triumphant march to the castle. Then felt the sharp, anguished scream of Professor McGonagall pierce his brain and he knew they had arrived. The voices of Ron, Hermione and Ginny, followed by countless other added to his pain. He wanted to jump up, expose his ruse, but he knew the better.

Hagrid was forced to cast Harry onto the ground as Voldemort ranted and raved about himself and Harry's weakness. He wanted to end the ruse and fight, but he knew in his heart he had to wait for the right moment to present itself. That moment finally came when Voldemort set fire to the sorting hat and placed in on the head of the body-bound Neville Longbottom.

In the blink of an eye, the final skirmish of the battle and war erupted. Curses flew and giants roared. Explosions rocked the grounds and Neville relieved Nagini of her head with a swift stroke of the Sword of Gryffindor. Finally, Harry revealed himself, resurrected to the cheers of his supporters, and ready for the final, climactic duel with Voldemort. There, in the quiet of the paused frenzy, the future of the Magical and Muggle worlds was decided.

Heroes had fallen that day, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin, Lavender and fifty plus others defenders of Hogwarts. But new heroes were also forged in the foundry of battle, none more the Neville, who completed the long journey from a meek, clumsy, first-year student with a monumental lack of confidence to a rock star, a revolutionary leader with that stroke of a sword. All of the martyrs who had fought against Voldemort from the beginning of his rise were honored. Evil, for the time being, was vanquished.

The prophecy Harry had been inextricably locked into since the night he survived the Killing Curse had been finally realized. He had exposed the ignorant arrogance and fateful failings of the Dark Lord to everyone as he sorted out the Elder Wand's ownership.


	11. Chapter 11

Later, Harry found himself amidst the masses gathered in the badly battered entry hall to the castle. People were talking in small groups, milling around, hugging each other, looking at the dead in hopes they would not see the faces of their closest friends, trying to shake off the shock of the past several hours. Harry's heart was searching for Ginny. He knew she was alive. He just needed to be near her, to embrace her.

He eventually spotted her across the way. She was talking with a group of girls. Walking over, he quietly spoke her name. As she turned, he gripped her in a hug paired with a fervent kiss. Her friends giggled at them, but they did not care.

"Ginny," he said softly as he pulled her away from the others. "You know that thing I said a while ago about pledging to love you forever if we survived?"

"Yes," she replied, the love she held for him in her heart glowing warmly through her adoring eyes.

"Well—uh—when I said that—well—I thought for sure we would both be dead by now, and I—uh…"

Ginny's eyes suddenly lost their loving warmth and turned as black as coal. Then, an instant later they ignited into a pair of infernos reaching an intensity only achievable in the fiery depths of Hell or by a true redhead. Her friends got wide-eyed and stepped back. They had seen this look before. They did not want to be collateral damage.

"I meant every word of it, Gin. I love you with all my heart," Harry quickly blurted out, feeling the distinct possibility of an impending attack that he might not survive.

Ginny froze halfway between starting to punch him with her quidditch-strong arms and pulling out her wand for something even worse. The hellfire in her eyes died and she started laughing. If she had learned only one thing from the years of being the little sister behind her six brothers, it was to appreciate a prank well-played. She pulled him into an even tighter hug than the first one and kissed him with all of the residual emotion left in her from a battle turned into passion. Somewhere above, Fred was laughing.

To Harry, it felt as if their hearts were merging into one, the beats joined in synchronized harmony. With the prophecy fulfilled, he was finally ready to live.

A moment later, Ron and Hermione walked upon them as they were still enjoying the moment. They were pressed together so tightly they looked like they had fused into a single being, their arms wrapped around each other's waist like Devil's Snare. Instead of interrupting, they looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Ron," said Hermione not trying to hide her voice.

"I love you, too, Mione," answered Ron, also not worried about others hearing him say it.

My heart has wanted to say it for a long time," added Hermione, the volume of her voice dropping to a more private level, "but my brain kept stopping me, telling me all sorts of stupid things. I am no longer…"

"…It's okay, Mione. Really," said Ron, interrupting her. "I have felt the same way for years. It's just that I've always been too scared to tell you. I always thought you wouldn't take me seriously or laugh at me. I—I was a…"

"…Me, too," said Hermione, cutting back in with a giggle. "But it's fine, now. We finally got passed it. My heart feels so warm and complete. It's like something was missing from it my entire life. Now it feels whole."

Harry instinctively knew what had finally happened inside both of them. It warmed his heart even further. For now, all of their worlds were as they should always be, filled with love and at peace.

Little did any of them know at that moment that nineteen days later they would begin a process that would see them embarking on the first of several more adventures that would further expand their hearts and knowledge thereof. For full details, see my published works…on under my author name **Tuzilla**.

1st Nineteen Days After – The search to find and recover Hermione's parents

2nd Nineteen Weeks Later – (A short addendum of a sort to Nineteen Days After)

3rd A Visit From an Old F(r)iend – An ancient evil returns and stalks Harry

4th The House That Was…Not Wasn't – Did Hogwarts once have a fifth house?

5th The Master of Wands - A short story concerning the olive wand in A Visit From an Old F(r)iend


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